


Wordless

by lovelypenguins1717



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Loss, M/M, slight angst, wordless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 18:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelypenguins1717/pseuds/lovelypenguins1717
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Geno and Sid say everything they need to say without words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wordless

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this last night after the loss3 It's not looked over or anything, so sorry if it is a bit messy.

Geno wants to hold Sid. But right now they sit in the locker room after showers and interviews and Sid is staring at the ground without a word. Geno knows what that look means. They shouldn’t have lost. They had so many chances. There is a thick feeling in the locker room and it’s choking Geno. Anger seethes under the surface.

Geno glances at Nealsy. He’s frowning and throwing his stuff jerkily into his bag. Paulie comes over to try to calm him, but he shrugs him off harshly. Geno frowns at the hurt look on Paul’s face, but turns to pack up his stuff and leave.

Sidney is the only one not moving. He hasn’t even showered and still has his skates on. Geno, at least, pulled on his suit and was ready to go. Sid is staring at the ground, jaw working furiously. Geno knows his mind must be going a hundred miles an hour, analyzing, going crazy over everything.

Geno knows the feeling. It is a burning in his throat that won’t go away. His head aches as does his ribs were he knows he has a big bruise from where Bergeron got in a lucky shot. He moves to reach out and gently nudge Sid, but winces and stops. Pain radiates up his side, and instead he reaches down to his bag to the where his bottle of Advil is in the front pocket. He pops in three, and glances over at his lover.

Sid still hasn’t moved.

Geno coughs slightly. “Sid, getting late.” He said, wishing his English was better. For a long beat, Sidney doesn’t reply. Then he grunts and slowly begins to unlace his skates. Geno sighed, turning away. Tanger and Kuni were just leaving and now they were alone.

Sid glanced up at him. “Go,” he muttered and headed over to the showers. For a moment, Geno wondered if he should wait, or just leave. He decided to head home, get in comfortable clothes and then drive over to Sid’s. Geno had a feeling Sid needed him tonight. At least, Geno needed him.

 

By the time Geno got back to his apartment he felt dead. The drive wasn’t too long, but the silence had given him time to think and that time had felt like an eternity. He had been lost inside the depths of his mind. He didn’t normally fight. He kept himself under control, but after the hit on Neal and a 2 minute penalty. Especially when Cookie had been called for a major, even though both hits were identical. Then Bergeron getting his ugly face into the huddle, he went off.

It was mostly a blur. All he really remembered was the crunch of a bone, blood everywhere and his fists and body crushing Bergeron’s.  Then he had stalked off, anger still boiling. He didn’t remember much else until he was back out on the ice fighting to win game one. But that didn’t happen.

After getting shut out, at first, Geno felt like he was a volcano ready to explode. Then after the anger washed away under the scalding hot shower water, he just felt exhausted. He felt like all of his strength had bled out of him and he didn’t even want to think.

As quickly as he could, he stripped out of his suit. He stood in front of his mirror, gazing at the bruise on his rib cage. Jeffery glanced up at him with big eyes that looked a little judgmental. “Prekrati. On zasluzhil eto, vy znayete.*” He muttered to the dog. Jeffery just turned around and then lumbered off to the bed. Geno muttered a good-bye to the dog before getting dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. He was tempted to just go to bed, but his mind still whirled.

Then the doorbell rang.

Geno turned and hurried down the stairs, curious to see who would visit him at this hour. He glanced out the pane of frosted glass and quickly turned the lock and opened the door. Sid stood on the porch. His unruly curls were damp and he looked a little broken. Geno quickly stepped back and Sid opened his mouth to say something as he stepped inside.

But Geno was faster. He quickly placed his first finger against Sid’s plush lips. “Shhh,” he whispered, and Sid closed his mouth, breath warm against Geno’s finger. He hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights and it was dim and dark in the house. Only their breathing and the light from the street poured into the foyer. Geno moved his finger away from Sid’s face, sliding it down to his jaw, gently cupping his jaw with his hand. He made sure he didn’t squeeze the still tender side.

Geno half expected Sid to pull away, but instead he pressed his face into Geno’s and closed and his dark eyes. Geno felt something in his heart twist, like a punch in the gut. Geno gently move his thumb across Sid’s cheekbone and Sid opened his eyes. No words needed to be spoken.

For years they’d grown so in synch. Even the handshake they do before they go out onto the ice says so much more. The knock on the head and the lock of eyes says more than any words could ever speak. It says _“I love you.” “I trust you.” “Together.”_ With so much more. Geno never felt like he knew someone so completely, yet every touch felt like the first time.

Sid lifted an arm, wrapping it around Geno’s neck, pulling him closer. Geno slid closer, his free hand settling in the groove of his hip, fingers molding perfectly to his body. Sid tangled his hand in Geno’s thick, dark hair, dragging his head down so their foreheads touched.

Sid’s eyes fluttered closed again. The way he looked took Geno’s breath away. So open, so vulnerable, so soft. Geno felt like he could look at Sid forever and it would never get old. Through the haze of such intimacy, Geno felt a little surprised Sid had willing come to be here. After a loss he normally watched highlights over and over again until he fell asleep or got too fed up. Then he would curl up into a ball and lay awake for hours before falling into a restless sleep.

Nothing usually stopped the routine. Geno sighed gently, content with standing here, pressed together all boundaries gone, and space eliminated. He lowers his eyes to Sid’s mouth, and he wants to kiss him so bad. Sid opens his eyes and arches up, grip in Geno’s hair tightening and their lips meet in a bruising kiss.

Their tongues clash together and Geno opens his mouth, and they fiercely pull themselves even closer. The only thing between them now is clothes. But, something tells Geno they won’t have sex tonight. Sid eventually pulls away, panting and arched up, curled so close his body that the heat is scorching. His legs are almost wrapped around Geno’s and if he let go, he’d fall backwards into the wall. Geno is the only thing holding him upright.

Something about that thought sends a shiver down Geno’s spine. It causes him to shudder and glance down at Sid. They seem to have a wordless conversation. Sid’s angled and gorgeous face is brilliant, lips open and a raw, ruby red. His eyes are wide and his lashes fluttering. His curls fall onto his forehead. Geno has always possessive. He’s heard the comments about how beautiful Sid is and how every girl fawns over him. But Sid is _his._

Geno’s face must’ve revealed those thoughts because Sid smiles. He tilts his chin up again, lips pressing softly against Geno’s. The kiss speaks a thousand words, all meaning the same thing. _I’m yours._

Geno presses back, taking control of the kiss and his response is, _always._

Geno pulls back a second and Sid smiles again, happy and a little dreamy. Then Sid lets his hand drop from Geno’s hair and wraps his other arm around his shoulders, putting his head on Geno’s shoulder. Geno smiled, pressing his face into Sid’s hair. And that message is clear as well.

 

_I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> This is the rough translation from Russian to English.  
> * Prekrati. On zasluzhil eto, vy znayete = Stop that. He deserved it, you know.


End file.
